


Pain Relief

by Rebel_Atar



Series: Spiritassassin Week 2017 [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baze is unsure about all this, Chirrut is an unrepentant flirt, Dispensary AU, Drug Use, M/M, Medical marijuana, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Atar/pseuds/Rebel_Atar
Summary: Baze Malbus is an Army veteran with chronic pain and prescription he never saw himself filling. Chirrut Imwe runs a dispensary which has been a little on the quiet side lately when a soft spoken ex-soldier walks into his shop and maybe a little into his heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spiritassassin week Day 2: Alternate Universe.
> 
> I hadn't really seen something like this around and I was really interested in writing it. I have a lot of experience in regards to coping with anxiety on a personal level and chronic pain through my loved ones. I hope I managed to represent them well.
> 
> On a slightly different note I live in a country that does not have dispensaries so I am mostly working off what I know from friends and from TV.

Baze Malbus sat in his car, looking down at the prescription the doctor had given him. He still wasn’t completely certain she hadn’t been joking. Since his honorable discharge the pain in his leg had been getting progressively worse. 

 

Some of it was definitely psychological. Even Baze could see that. A lot of it, however, was purely physical. Some of his nerves were never going to be the same. He was lucky to have legs at all after being that close to an IED blast. 

 

After seeing what had at the time seemed like a conveyor belt of doctors and surgeons it had been concluded that he would most likely have to deal with some level of pain and discomfort for the rest of his life. A Chronic Pain Condition. They had called it. Capital letters all falling neatly into place inside Baze’s head. 

 

He had been managing it, with medication and with therapy, for the past two years. As time went on it was only getting more difficult. Some days it was hard to walk. He had a cane to help but it wasn’t always enough. 

On top of this he had come back home feeling slightly less than he had when he left. It was almost as though he had left something behind. Like the bomb had blown out more than just his leg. He was on edge, almost constantly. The paranoia that in the field had meant a greater chance at survival had him jumping at shadows as a civilian.

 

His psychiatrist had said he had seen a lot worse. Baze could have ended up with full blown PTSD but was in the doctor’s words “fortunate enough” to have moderate to severe anxiety instead. He still had panic attacks, more than he would like but less apparently than he could be getting. He knew where he was though, and who he was, and that was something that didn’t change. He never thought he was back in the desert. Never found himself waking, looking for the rest of his unit. He did sometimes jump at shadows.

 

It was in some ways harder to deal with than his leg and about as slow a process. It didn’t help matters that most of the medication on either wasn’t doing what it was supposed to or just wasn’t doing anything at all.

 

Which is how Baze Malbus, army veteran, found himself sitting in his car staring down at a prescription for medical marijuana. He double checked what the prescription said, ran the doctor’s instructions through his head one more time, and sighed before turning on the engine. She had been helpful enough to tell him where the nearest dispensary to his apartment was. She had, in fact, been one of the nicest doctors he had seen so far and had certainly been more hopeful about making some improvements to his quality of life. He supposed he would see. 

  
Baze tapped the address into his satnav and pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t a long drive and he should probably get this over with so he could get home and rest. The throbbing in his leg was getting worse and driving never particularly made it better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels a little awkward but I promise things are going to get better in the next one.

Chirrut sighed to himself as he leant his elbows on the counter. It was a slow day at the dispensary. They happened more often than not if he was honest with himself. He didn’t mind though. People came in for what they needed when they needed to. The shop made enough to keep itself running and Chirrut comfortable without too much issue. 

 

He was half tempted to close up for a half hour and step out for a smoke himself. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to miss him today. Technically he was only prescribed it for migraines. He had been prescribed to ease the pain from his glaucoma but that had faded as the years went on since he lost his sight. 

 

That was the only reason to have it from the medicinal standpoint. Chirrut personally saw no reason he shouldn’t enjoy himself a little as well. 

 

Just as he was getting ready to go flip the door sign from open to closed the bell above the door jingled. He sighed and put on a smile. He could always go once he’d seen to this customer. For a metaphorical value of seen at least.

 

“Welcome to Imwe’s, how can I help you today.” He could probably have thought of a wittier name but he had started this business as a serious venture. The novelty places might attract more attention from tourists but reputable ones got recommendations from hospitals and doctors surgeries. Chirrut had every doctor within a half hour drive recommending people to him.

 

There was no response from the visitor and Chirrut was just considering reaching for his staff and showing them what happened to people who tried to rob his store when the person stepped forward. Their weight was placed unevenly on each leg. Chirrut could hear it from the sound of their footfalls. They were limping. He could also hear they had a cane or stick of some kind. He relaxed a little but stayed within easy reach of his staff in case he needed it. You could never be too careful.

 

Baze hobbled forward painfully and uncomfortably. He had never been in a dispensary before. He hadn’t expected it to look so  _ professional _ . It was prejudiced he knew. Somehow he just couldn’t shift the image of a stereotypical stoner selling pot out the back of a van but the second he’d stepped through the door any illusions that this place wasn’t completely above board had been shattered.

 

He looked around. There were glass cases filled with what were labelled as different blends. Shelves on the walls were stocked with what seemed to be food laced with the plant. One wall had a cabinet filled with pipes and bongs. He at the very least knew what they looked like.

 

“Um Sir or Ma’am or however you wish to be addressed?”

 

Baze turned with an eyebrow raised and caught sight of the unfocused gaze of the cashier. There was a walking stick behind him, a little longer than usual but still white tipped. He was blind. 

 

Baze cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just looking around. I’ve...I’ve never been in one of these places before.” He admitted it somewhat sheepishly. There was no point in hiding it though, not if he wanted to get properly set up for his prescription. It wasn’t as if he had any idea of what he was doing himself. He watched the other man relax at his words and smile gently.

 

“Ah,” Said Chirrut. “Filling your first prescription?”

 

“Yes.” Said Baze.

 

“Okay then. Well there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” Chirrut’s smile was genuine now. The man sounded a little nervous. His deep voice stumbling over asking for what he needed. He sounded older. Not old, but passed his teens and maybe his twenties. 

 

“So do you have any equipment already or?”

 

“No. No I’ve never er...been inclined to...this sort of thing.” Baze winced at his own awkwardness. He was a grown man for goodness sake. At least he wasn’t being laughed at, yet.

 

“That’s fine I just need to know if you’re going to need everything. Which you are. Don’t worry though I’ll take you through everything. I’m sure your doctor has already but I always like to make sure.” 

 

Baze limped closer. He watched the other man straighten up.

 

“Would you mind reading me out your prescription?” He said.

 

Baze did so, noting now that he was closer to the glass cases that there were little labels in braille along the edges of each one. The cashier nodded along.

 

“That seems reasonable for a first prescription. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you some questions before we get started though.”

  
Baze looked at him suspiciously. “What kind of questions?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirrut goes a little overboard with his explanations and Baze is feeling a little out of his depth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the reason this took so long is that I tried really hard to stop Chirrut from info dumping and I failed.
> 
> The man cannot be stopped. 
> 
> So I'm hoping to have the next chapter up way sooner to make up for it.
> 
> I will also be changing the title of this fic. Today.
> 
> It has been brought to my attention that 'Alternative Medicine' as a title for a fic with two Chinese characters could definitely be taken the wrong way especially considering how the west generally treats/ignores this sort of thing so yeah.
> 
> I am really sorry if this has offended anyone. It genuinely did not cross my mind that I had done that and the fic title will be changed within the next couple of hours.

“Well let’s start with introductions shall we? I’m Chirrut Imwe.”

 

He held his hand out across the counter and was surprised by the size and strength of the hand that gripped his own.

 

“Baze Malbus.”

 

“Alright then Mr Malbus. Now your doctor will have covered the basics but there are actually a lot of options open to you with this prescription so I’m going to have to go over quite a lot with you so we can get you something that will specifically target your needs.”

 

Baze nodded before realising that Chirrut wouldn’t be able to see him. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”

 

Chirrut grinned.

 

“Right then. There are two main strains of cannabis. Sativa and Indica. They both broadly have the same effects but with a few differences. Sativa tends to affect your mind more and can have an energising or uplifting effect whereas Indica has a more noticeable effect on the body and is much more calming.”

 

Chirrut paused and Baze hummed an affirmative to show he was listening.

 

“So my first question for you, Mr Malbus,” He continued. “Is whether your prescription is to treat a physical condition, a mental one, or both.”

 

Considering the cane and the man’s measured, limping gait Chirrut was expecting it to be a physical ailment.

 

“Don’t worry.” He added. “You don’t need to tell me the nature of the condition if you don’t want to, that's between you and your doctor.  You can always just say which strain you think would be more effective for you if that’s easier for you.”

 

Baze had tensed at the initial question but let out a breath when he realised he wasn’t expected to run through all of his issues with a cashier. It was hard enough with his actual doctor.

 

“Both.” Said Baze.

 

Chirrut raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t let his surprise show. Now he was curious. Unfortunately it wasn’t his job to interrogate his customers and whilst he might try and get the man to be a little more talkative on future visits there was no point in scaring him away his first time in the place.

 

“Okay that’s fine. In which case we are going to be looking at blends of the two or hybrid strains.” He mentally ran a quick stock check. Blends were becoming quite popular so he had a fair few options in at the moment. “Do you expect to be using during the day and going about your normal routine or at night?”

 

Baze furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why?”

 

“Ah well some varieties of Indica or hybrid strains can leave people a little...well I believe the phrase is couch-locked.” Chirrut chuckled a little. “Not from anything worrying.” He assured. “Just it is possible to be a too relaxed.”

 

In Chirrut’s opinion this was not strictly true but he wasn’t hear to offer his opinion in regards to recreational use. At least not officially.

 

“I’m not sure really. I can’t really do much at the moment anyway.” Baze sighed.  “Too much pain.”

 

“Is it your leg?” Chirrut slapped a hand to his mouth the instant he said it and began to apologise. “Sorry that was terribly unprofessional of me-”

 

“How did you know?” Baze asked. Chirrut blinked at the interruption.

 

“Hmm? Oh I can hear the cane when you’re walking.” Chirrut said.

 

“Oh.” He probably should have expected that. “Well yes, it’s my leg.”

 

“So pain relief would be your main goal right now?”

 

“Yes. There are some other issues too but…” Baze wasn’t really willing to go into too much detail about his anxiety issues. He didn’t liked to even think about them really. Let alone talk about them to a stranger.

 

“But it’s hard to focus on anything that isn’t the pain?” Asked Chirrut.

 

Baze started to nod again and caught himself. “Yes. You sound like you have some experience.”

 

Chirrut’s smile was a little bitter. “Let’s just say this,” He gestured to his eyes. “Wasn’t exactly a painless process.” He gathered himself a little. “Okay that simplifies things a little. We’ll go with indica focused for your first prescription and if we need to adjust it for you next time I can do that.”

 

“Thank you.” Baze thought that more calming one would probably be better for his anxiety as well but he was happy to cede to someone more knowledgeable.

 

“Oh we’re not done yet I’m afraid.”

 

Baze, already feeling a little overwhelmed hesitantly asked, “What else is there?”

 

“Well we need to go over how you’ll be medicating. As you may have noticed from the store there are quite a lot of options. Mostly they come down to do you want to eat your meds or smoke them. So don’t feel too intimidated by all," he made a sweeping gesture around the room, "this.”

 

Baze thought for a moment, he used to smoke cigarettes when he first joined the army but had given that up years ago. He didn’t really want to start down that route again. However he had heard some worrying things about edibles. “Do you have to mix with tobacco to smoke?” He asked.

 

Chirrut looked surprised. “Well not if you don’t want to. I have both on stock.”

 

“You stock premixed with tobacco?”

 

“A lot of people don’t want to roll their own joints so I stock quite a lot of prerolled. I do have blunts as well which is prerolled without tobacco. Have you smoked before because if not edibles can be a little easier for a first prescription.”

 

“I used to smoke but I gave it up.” Said Baze

 

“Ah.” That explained the oddly specific question Chirrut thought to himself.

 

“I would prefer not to go down the edible er...route?”

 

“That’s alright. Would you prefer the prerolled? I do also have pipes and similar equipment if you prefer to smoke that way?”

 

“Let’s stick with the prerolled for the moment.”

 

Oh he shouldn’t have given Chirrut the license that qualifier implied. Chirrut would leave his suggestions, for the moment, but he wouldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t be back by the man’s next prescription. Well, maybe he’d leave it a little longer than that. He didn’t want to scare away customers and he really did want to make sure that this man, like everyone the doctors sent to him, was getting the best treatment available.

 

He pottered around the shop, long fingers tracing over the little labels on each shelf and cabinet until he found what he was looking for. He took a key from his pocket and opened the case, the fingers on his other hand locating the lock first. He removed a tray of what looked to Baze like neatly rolled cigarettes at first glance. At second he could tell they were a little thicker and more tapered to one end.

 

“These should do you for the first prescription but if you think they aren’t working for you feel free to come back early and I can swap them for something else.”

 

Baze grunted and Chirrut smiled as he counted out his prescription. As he worked he ran over the side effects, positive and negative, that Baze should look out for as a new user and when to seek medical attention. He also went over come downs and after effects.

 

Once he had everything packaged up and ready he slid Baze’s prescription over the counter and took his insurance details for the payment to come out of.

 

“One last thing.” Said Chirrut

Baze paused in the act of picking up the bag from the counter.

 

“I’ve included a lighter in case you don’t have one, free of charge don’t worry and just a reminder that you’ll need to hold your inhales longer than you were used to with cigarettes. As long as you are comfortable with I would say.”

 

“Thank you.” Said Baze, gathering up the bag and turning to hobble his way out.

 

“Not at all,” Said Chirrut as he listened to the door open and then close behind Baze. “It was my pleasure.” If he was honest he wouldn’t mind hearing that gruff voice in his shop again. He might even be looking forward to it.

 

Baze walked to his car feeling a little overwhelmed with the amount of information he had just been given. He wished he had thought to bring a notebook. He wondered if there’d be an exam when he came for a refill. If this actually worked that was.

 

Chirrut had helpfully written the shop’s number down for him in case he forgot anything or had any issues. Honestly the man had been far nicer than Baze was expecting and the experience hadn’t been as awkward as he had anticipated.

  
He started the car and drove home. He had a lot to think about on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive back to his apartment was a short one. Baze locked up his car in the underground parking that came with the building and then hobbled his way over to the elevator. He was unbelievably grateful that his building had one. It meant he had the luxury of being on the twelfth floor with a balcony and a wonderful view. He didn’t spend as much time out there as he’d like to but the option was there if he needed it and Baze was still getting used to having those kind of options.

 

The elevator was empty and the ride up shorter than it would have been otherwise. Baze was grateful for that too because, legal or not, it felt very strange to be carrying around a bag of weed. Well not quite. What had Chirrut called them? Blunts? 

 

He should probably feel strange about calling the man Chirrut in his head when he had so politely referred to him as Mr Malbus. Baze’s doctor had tried calling him that too but he had corrected her almost immediately. There was something about the way that Chirrut had said it though. Baze hadn’t really minded so much. 

 

Once he was back in his apartment with the door shut firmly and locked behind him Baze felt like he could relax more. This was his safe space, his sanctuary. He put the bag on the kitchen counter and sat down on a stool to have a better look at the contents.

 

Everything seemed just as neat and tidy as it had in the shop. Chirrut had packaged the blunts into a couple of boxes that made it look like he was just carrying around cigarettes and Baze was happy for the familiarity. The lighter was just a simple disposable one but it would do until Baze could look out where his Zippo one had gotten to in the years since he used it. It would need a refill of fluid though.

 

He opened one of the packs and took out a blunt. He sat it on the countertop and stared at it for a moment. It looked just as unassuming and benign as it had in the shop. Uncertainty and nausea still stirred in the pit of Baze’s stomach when he looked at it. He sighed. This wouldn’t do. His doctor had specifically told him to try and get himself into as good a mindset as he was capable of before taking his first dosage. Apparently you could get some unwanted side effects if you were too wound up.

 

It had seemed completely counter intuitive for one of the reasons he would be taking this for but she had proceeded to explain that after the first time, once his brain and body knew this would be beneficial, he would be less likely to get the side effects. Part placebo effect and part of the package that came with medication that worked on your brain in order to help your body. Of course the weed would work on both, especially the strain Chirrut had given him from the sounds of things. 

 

He heaved another sigh. He needed to relax and sitting staring at his medication wasn’t going to help with that.

 

Baze picked up his cane and hobbled through to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and let it heat up while he slowly stripped himself of his clothes and put them in the laundry hamper. He’d deal with washing them at some point. 

 

He stepped under the hot spray and sighed as it began to work the tension out of all of his muscles. It hadn’t been a long day. It wasn’t even that late into the afternoon yet but it felt as though it had been weeks long by this point.

 

Baze spent a few minutes standing there just soaking up the heat before his leg started to tremble in the way that meant it might start spasming if he wasn’t careful. He grabbed the shampoo bottle and lathered up his hair.

 

One of the first things he’d stopped doing when he was discharged was shaving his head. It was a simple thing but it stopped him from looking like he was still in the army and that made it a lot easier to leave some of things he had seen behind him. Strange how the simplest things often made the biggest difference. Now his hair was just beginning to brush to tops of his shoulders. It was the longest it had ever been in his life and had turned out to be surprisingly wavy as it had grown in.

 

Once his hair and body was washed as well as he could currently manage Baze turned off the shower and grabbed a towel from the wrack. He dried himself quickly, efficiently, then ruffled his hair in the towel to try and take some of the dampness out.

 

He slid on a bathrobe. It was soft, made of towelling material, and large enough that it managed to fit him well while still being loose enough to be comfortable. Baze picked up his cane and leaned on it a little more heavily as he made his way back to the kitchen. 

 

He shoved a toaster strudel into the toaster, waited by it impatiently and devoured it in four bites once it was done. Then he picked up the blunt and the lighter, made his way over to his sofa and collapsed into the cushions with a groan.

 

After a hot shower and with a stomach full of hot food Baze felt much more relaxed. Unfortunately the pain in his leg was getting worse by the minute. He felt that he was a little more ready to give his new medication a try now. 

 

Baze pulled the footstool closer and propped his bad leg up on it to alleviate the pain a little. Then he slid the blunt between his lips, flicked the lighter into life and lit up.

 

He took a deep pull and held the smoke in his lungs. It was strange to be smoking anything after so many years but his body remembered the motions as if he had never stopped. He paid close attention to Chirrut’s instructions and held the smoke until it began to feel uncomfortable before letting out a breath with a long plume of smoke.

 

It tasted odd. Much more pleasant than tobacco but still somewhat acrid, earthy. He supposed if it worked it would be something to get used to. 

 

Baze tool another pull and began to feel the effects of his first hit. Initially his head spun but it died down quickly as his body began to even out and regulate what was being added to his system. It was strange, not at all what he’d thought it was going to be. After that initial kick of the dose hitting his system he was only a little dizzy and there was an odd tight feeling at the back of his skull. He licked his lips as he exhaled.

 

His limbs felt a little heavier but not anywhere close to the degree he was expecting. He could feel the pain and tightness in his leg begin to ease a little and his muscles relax even more than they had already.

 

Despite this Baze was a little on edge still. The doctor had described things well enough but it wasn’t quite the same as experiencing it. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant experience. It was certainly miles better than the opioids he’d been previously prescribed and there was none of the nausea, at least at the moment. It was also a much quicker sense of relief. 

 

Baze took one last long drag before snuffing out the blunt. He’d had maybe a third of it but he wasn’t comfortable having more in case he over indulged. Maybe once he had a little bit more experience.

 

He found his thoughts drifting back to the odd cashier as he tried to let himself relax into the feeling a little more. It only then struck him that the man’s surname was the name of the store. Not a just a cashier then, probably the owner. He wondered if it was common for dispensary owners to run their own shop.

  
Baze realised he was beginning to understand what the doctor had meant when she said his thoughts might go off on odd tangents.


	5. Chapter 5

It was just coming up to two weeks on his new medication when Baze realised he was running quite low. Baze had been having a little almost every day, sometimes two or three times a day depending on how long the effects lasted, but had still not felt the need to smoke than about a third of one in one go.

 

So far the results were good. He had spoken with his doctor over the phone to update her on his progress and she had been delighted that things were going well. It did not completely remove the pain from his leg but it numbed him and helped the muscles relax and stop trying to spasm. Baze had also found himself a little more relaxed as well.

 

The doctor had advised if he increased the individual dosage he was taking the effects would be greater but agreed that considering his individual situation that Baze needed to go at his own pace. She had, however, been more than happy to give him a new prescription. This time a repeating one that he could fill as needed although he would still need to keep her updated regularly on his progress. Apparently all he needed to do was present his medical marijuana card and his insurance card and ask for a refill. 

 

She also mentioned that he could fill the prescription however he liked in regards to how he wanted to keep taking his medication. Baze made the executive decision not to tell Chirrut this when he went back to the shop. The amount of knowledge the other man had poured into him last time was more than enough in Baze’s opinion.

 

After his phone call with his doctor Baze took his cane, although he was leaning on it much less heavily now, and made is way out to the elevator and down to his car. The drive over wouldn’t take long.

 

Traffic was light. Not surprising considering it was the middle of a week day. Eventually he might be well enough to look for some sort of work but for the moment he wasn’t and as he had spent basically none of his army pay he wasn’t too worried about it. Provided he didn’t go mad with his spending he could live comfortable for a while yet.

 

He parked on the street as close to Imwe’s Dispensary as he was able to. 

  
  


The bell above the shop door chimed and Chirrut tilted his head toward the sound. Customers? He heard the click of a cane and a slightly limping gait and perked up a little. Perhaps his gravelly voiced Mr Malbus had come back. Chirrut rather hoped so. He also hoped the man was in less pain.

 

“Welcome to Imwe’s, how may I help you today?”

 

Baze limped up to the counter watching the confusion etch over Chirrut’s face when he didn't speak.

 

He cleared his throat. “It's me, Baze Malbus, not sure if you remember…” Baze trailed off as Chirrut smiled broadly at him. Baze couldn't help but notice how much it lit up his face.

 

“Mr Malbus.” Said Chirrut. “You came in for your first prescription a couple of weeks ago. I could hardly forget.”

 

Chirrut tidied away the stock he'd been checking over when Baze came in. “Am I to presume your presence here mean things went well?”

 

“Yes.” Said Baze. “I've been given a repeat prescription for the foreseeable future. The uh doctor said to give you these.”

 

He slid the two cards across the counter until they nudged against Chirrut’s hand. Chirrut took them and scanned them on a little machine that gave a brief audible description of both. He smiled.

 

“I'm glad this is helping you.” Chirrut didn't mention he was also glad that it meant Baze and his deep growly voice would be visiting his little store more often. He couldn't see Baze smile back at him.

 

“No nasty side effects?” He asked.

 

“No.” Said Baze.

 

“Any nice ones?” Chirrut waggled his eyebrows somewhat excessively.

 

Baze scrubbed a hand over his face with a groan. “No side effects that I wasn't prewarned about.”

 

“So just the same again or are you looking to try something different this time, Mr Malbus.”

 

“No, just the same is fine.” Baze began but it was too late Chirrut was off. Chattering about different strains and checking the labels on shelves.

 

“Really it's fine.” Baze hesitantly eyed the armful of things.

 

“You're sure,” Asked Chirrut. “You don't want to try resin instead of the dries leaves or?”

 

“I'm sure.”

 

“Don't want to maybe try an edible?” He slid a packet of cookies across the counter. Baze slid it back again.

 

“No thank you.”

 

“A grinder perhaps? Makes it easier to put it in your own food. One of my regulars swears by putting it in her yoghurt. Perhaps-”

 

“Chirrut. Stop.”

 

Chirrut blinked for a moment before cracking a smile. “Why Mr Malbus,” He drawled. “I didn't know you could be so forceful.”

 

Baze said nothing and ignored the little hairs that rose on the back of his neck when Chirrut called him that. He watched the other man put his stock back where it belonged and pull out the same tray of blunts as last time.

 

“Just give me a moment to box this up for you.”

 

“Thank you.” Said Baze.

 

“Oh don't thank me, I've not given up yet. Maybe I'll get you to expand your horizons a little next time.”

 

Baze let out a little huff of laughter and took the bag the other man held out to him. “I'll see you again in another couple of weeks I expect.”

 

“Just remember you have the shops number if you need anything before then!” Chirrut said, poking a finger in what he thought was the vague direction of Baze’s chest.

 

“I remember.” Baze said and headed out with his prescription.

  
Chirrut listened to him go before leaning his elbows on the counter. He propped his head up on his hands and heaved a sigh. He wondered if his visits from Baze Malbus would always been so short.


	6. Chapter 6

Things had been going well for Baze. Too well really. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

It had been a few months since his first prescription. The pain in his leg was easily manageable now with the regular medication and a few puffs were usually enough to ease any creeping anxiety when it reared its ugly head. At least it had been easing back down to the level Baze had grown used to having. It had been getting a little worse as time went on but as long as he kept the edge off Baze was content to live with it.

Chirrut had become a fortnightly fixture in his life and while the man had yet to cease trying to push new things in his direction Baze found himself enjoying their interactions. These days he lingered more in the shop when he went to talk to Chirrut. Rather than picking up the refill of his prescription and heading straight out. He thought Chirrut quite liked their interactions as well but the man seemed almost permanently cheerful so it was difficult to tell.

Baze had woken that morning with his anxiety dialled up higher than it had been in months. Every tiny noise had him turning to find the source. Every time a shadow flickered at the corner of his vision he jumped to see what it was.

He had spent the morning pacing. Trying to calm his thoughts that seemed to be running at a hundred miles an hour. They kept circling back to his insecurities, to any action he ever regretted, to everything he needed to do to get his life in order and he was living wasn’t he but he still hadn’t found a job because he was holding out for something he would enjoy but shouldn’t be working now and what if people don’t hire him because of his medication or what if it gets recriminalized and he has to go back on opioids.

Around and around and around.

He didn’t know how to make it stop. Eventually he had to sit down because the pacing had made his leg cramp up and spasm and now he was in agony as well as everything else. He would have a smoke to take the pain down a bit and hopefully the edge off his mind and then he would make some breakfast.

Baze reached for the pack on the counter and found it empty. Shit.

He'd forgotten he had ran out two days ago. He meant to go to Chirrut’s yesterday but he had physiotherapy and he had been so tired afterwards Baze had gone straight home to rest.

What was he going to do now.

Baze opened the fridge and peered in but even the thought of food was unpleasant. Anxiety gnawing at his gut and churning is stomach up into waves of nausea. He scrubbed his hands over his face. His leg spasmed again and nearly dropped him from where he stood next to the fridge.

It was no good. He was going to need to head over to Chirrut’s to pick up a refill but the thought of going outside like this was terrifying. What happened if flinched at something while driving. Unfortunately he didn’t have much of a choice.

Baze grabbed his cane from by the door. He’d been managing to get around inside his apartment without it. Not so today. The elevator down to the parking lot felt like it took a decade to reach its destination. Every creak sent Baze’s thoughts in the direction on what would happen if it got stuck or the cables snapped.

He couldn’t get out of it fast enough. Once he was limping his way over to his car he felt like could breathe again. He buckled himself in the driver’s seat and checked everything twice before pulling out of the parking space. He didn’t want to take any chances right now. The drive over seemed longer than it had ever been. When he was finally parked and heading towards the shop he could feel the eyes of passersby on him. Judging the cripple, he thought with a grimace. Perhaps they knew where he was heading. He swore he saw a middle aged woman sneer at him as she shuffled past but when he looked she had already turned a corner.

He leaned heavily on the cane and took several shallow, shaky breaths. He could feel his heart racing. He felt exposed on the street but at the same time he felt the same claustrophobia from the elevator. It was like he couldn’t breathe. Baze made his way along as quickly as he could manage.

Chirrut tilted his head when the shop door opened. He hear the sound of a cane and began to smile. It was about time for Baze’s refill and he had been looking forward to talking with him again. This time he would definitely get the man to try something new.

After listening to a couple of steps though Chirrut knew something was wrong. Baze hadn’t been this quiet coming into the shop since his first few visits and there was something off about how he was walking. It was a slower more measured step. Chirrut could hear his breathing from behind the counter.

“Baze?” He’d stopped calling him Mr Malbus when Baze had finally told him it was too formal. Sometimes he still did it as a tease but he didn’t feel like teasing right now. “Are you okay?”

Baze knew Chirrut needed him to speak. The man could probably guess he needed refill but he didn’t want to worry him just because he was having a bad day. He couldn’t get the words past his teeth. Everything was seizing up from his leg all the way up to his jaw. His breaths came faster as he tried to fight off the panic.

Chirrut heard Baze’s breathing pick up and made an executive decision. He quickly packed up a refill of the man’s usual prescription and bagged it before striding over to the door and flipping the sign from open to closed. He remembered from the man’s first visit that his condition was not just physical but he didn’t know the extent of what Baze was going through right now.

He’d become very fond of him over the passing months. He wasn’t about to let him suffer. He walked over cautiously to where he could hear the short gasping breaths.

“Baze.” He said. “I’m going to touch you now okay? I’m going to help you through to the back of the shop and we’re going to sit down and relax for a little bit.”

Baze shook his head with a little groan.

“None of that. It’s my shop. I can close whenever I feel like. It’s not as though it’s been busy today.”

He reached out hand for Baze’s shoulder and found his arm. He man was taller than he thought. He looped his arm through the one not holding the cane and urged Baze forward a little.

It took longer than he would have liked but Chirrut got him moving again and steered Baze past the counter and through to the back, scooping up the bag he'd filled on their way by.


	7. Chapter 7

Chirrut led Baze through the back room, past boxes of rolling papers and cheap lighters, to a couple of chairs and a small table shoved against the back wall.

He swung his stick in front of them but it was obvious to Baze he didn't really need to.

 

Chirrut reached a hand out to the edge of the table to orientate himself and then guided Baze to sit in the chair further in.

Once Baze was seated Chirrut fished around in the bag and took a blunt out of the packs. He put the bag on the table and pulled a lighter out of his back pocket.

He quickly lit up, blunt held in his mouth so he could make sure the flame caught. Then breathed out the short puff of smoke he'd taken and passed it to Baze.

 

“Deep breath, then hold it.” Said Chirrut. He hoped the measured breaths might help calm Baze as much as the smoke would.

 

Baze took shaking breaths until the medication started to calm him down a little. The pain in his bad leg was easing and his anxiety levels were dropping.

He managed to force out a “Thank you” to Chirrut and reached to put out the blunt in the small ashtray sitting on the table. Chirrut grabbed his wrist with what seemed to be an unnatural speed.

 

“You sit your ass back down and keep going.” Said Chirrut. His worry making his voice come out terse and angry sounding.

“Baze Malbus you should in no way be letting things get that bad before coming to restock.” Chirrut ran a hand over his short cropped hair. “I know there is a lot of stigma with this as a medication. I can understand you being uncomfortable with it. I can understand feeling like you are losing control. I'm blind I only have so much control left to lose.” Chirrut shook his head and sat down in the chair opposite Baze.

 

Baze looked at the man in front of him and sat back down.

 

“Baze I know you're not used to medicating like this, most people aren't. But you can't just use it to take the edge off things. I highly doubt that's what you were prescribed this for. I know you have the leg pain,” Chirrut took a breath, “I'm going to assume you have some anxiety problems too?”

 

He waited for Baze to hum uncomfortably and choke out an affirmative. He could hear the chair creaking where the other man couldn't sit still.

 

“Baze you need to get the anxiety down to a manageable level first. Then you can just use it too keep yourself topped up.” Chirrut shook his head. If he'd know one of Baze's problems was anxiety he would have advised this from the start, but it was Baze's decision what parts of his diagnosis he shared with anyone. Including Chirrut.

“Baze.” He said gently. “You need to take a full day every so often to completely destress and recover. Not just take the edge off. If you don't you're going to be permanently living on your nerves.” He paused a moment a little hesitant about letting Baze know what he'd worked out.

“It might be good in a war zone but it's bad for long term civilian health.”

 

Baze looked up at him sharply. “How did you know?” His voice was still shakey.

 

Chirrut gave him a soft smile. “Lets just say you have a few tells.”

 

Baze looked down at his hands. He was hesitant but he knew he couldn't let things get this bad again. If a blind man could give up his control then maybe, just maybe he was putting up a little too much fuss.

He took the lighter from the table and extracted his wrist from Chirrut's hand. The blunt had gone out while Chirrut was talking so Baze lit up again.

He watched Chirrut smile more fully at the sound and allowed himself to smoke leisurely for a change rather than having a few frantic puffs to take the sharpness off of everything.

He wasn't at war anymore. He wasn't under attack. He did not need to be fully alert all hours of the day.

 

“Would you like to take today as your rest day?” Asked Chirrut. “I can stay with you to help guide you through? Watch for bad reactions, make sure everything's okay?”


	8. Chapter 8

Baze was reluctant to keep Chirrut from his work.  “I...are you sure. I wouldn’t want to take up your time.”

 

Chirrut waved him quiet. “I’ve already closed up and honestly?” He looked a little sheepish. “I’ve been nursing a headache all morning, considering I get horrifically bad migraines I should probably medicate too, before it gets worse.”

 

Baze rolled his eyes. “You could do with taking some of your own advice.”

 

“Yes, yes. Do as I say not as I do and all that.” Chirrut smiled and found Baze’s hand with his own. He brought it to his mouth and stole a toke of the blunt still held in Baze’s fingers, letting out a happy hum at the familiar taste.

 

Baze swallowed.

 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Chirrut ‘vocalises happy noises’ Imwe. He filed the new information away to be dealt with when his brain was feeling less like an angry pen scribble on a page.

 

“Would you like to go upstairs?” Asked Chirrut, voice soft and captivating smile still in place. “My apartment is over the shop and it would be a little more comfortable than here.”

 

Baze made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. He didn’t want to seem rude by refusing Chirrut’s hospitality but he didn’t think he would be able to relax in someone else's home. At least not to the extent he apparently needed to.

 

Chirrut tilted his head a little as if listening to something Baze couldn’t hear. 

 

“We could go back to your place if that’s easier.” He said. “If you don’t mind me being there.”

 

Baze sighed, a little more anxiety seeping out of him and a little more relief replacing it. “My place...and you’re more than welcome.”

 

Chirrut beamed at him and clapped his hands together. “Alright then. I’ve made up your full prescription here. You might have to refill earlier now that we are going to get you using it the way you are supposed to.” 

 

Baze offered a shaky smile in return that Chirrut couldn’t see and stood, scooping up the bag. He could live with seeing Chirrut more often.

 

Chirrut stood and reached out for Baze's arm again. He picked up his stick.

 

“Just let me pick some things up and we'll head out through the front. I need to lock up.”

 

They headed back through, past the stacks of boxes again until Chirrut was back behind the counter rummaging for something. He straightened up with a satchel in hand and fished a set of keys out of it.

 

Once they were out on the street and Chirrut had locked up the shop, Baze steered him over to where his car was parked. Chirrut fitted against him well, hand looped through Baze’s arm and pressed closer to him than Baze had expected. It was a comfortable fit.

 

He helped Chirrut into the passenger seat before going around to the other side. Baze had just finished strapping himself in when Chirrut spoke.

 

“Are you  _ sure _ you don’t want me to drive?”

 

Baze stilled for a moment then slowly turned his head toward Chirrut. The blind man’s face was split in a broad grin. Baze took back every thought about it feeling good to have Chirrut next to him.

 

“Yes. I’m  _ sure. _ ” He said sarcastically before turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking space.

 

Chirrut was silent, if still grinning, for a little while before he piped up again. “If there is a grocery store on the way to your apartment we should stop and grab a few things. You'll thank me later.”

 

Baze glanced over at him and shrugged, unable to tell from his expression if Chirrut was serious or not. “If you say so.”

 

“If we are going to do this Baze I  _ insist _ on doing it properly, trust me you’ll thank me for the food.” Said Chirrut.

 

Baze grumbled a little but ceded to Chirrut’s vast fonts of experience and obediently pulled up in front of a small grocery shop on the way. Chirrut bade him to wait there and Baze sighed heavily before agreeing. Chirrut lived with his blindness and he had his walking stick, he surely managed his own groceries without Baze’s help. He could manage this.

 

After about twenty minutes of sitting fiddling with the radio Chirrut showed up at the passenger side door, arms laden with bags and his stick tucked in the crook of his elbow. Baze opened the door for him.

 

“That’s a lot of stuff.” He said as Chirrut clambered in and got himself into some semblence of order again. 

 

“You’ll-”

 

“Thank me later I know. Is it  _ all _ junk food?”

 

“Well...maybe not all of it.”

 

Baze rolled his eyes and drove them the rest of the way back to his home. It felt good to let someone else take over what was happening today. His mind just wasn’t up to the challenge right now. Having to figure out what he was doing every day, and organise his whole life from scratch after years of it being pre-planned. Years of following a routine and orders. It had been more exhausting than he realised.

 

Maybe chirrut was right. Maybe he did need a day to not be in control, a day to just be.

 

He pulled into the parking lot and went around the car to help Chirrut with the unreasonable amount of shopping bags he had acquired. The trip up to the apartment seemed much shorter than it had that morning but Baze could still feel the spectres of anxiety and paranoia trying to dig their claws into his head again. 

 

He fidgeted, picking at the plastic handles on the bags or at his fingernails. While the journey up in the elevator wasn’t as bad as in the morning he still felt like he couldn’t breathe until he got out into the hallway again. 

 

Baze let Chirrut follow on behind him up to the door of the apartment. It took a couple of tries to get the key in the lock but then the door was open and he was inside and he was home and it made things so much better. Baze was safe here, he knew he was.

 

The apartment was spotless but mainly because it was fairly sparse. Baze had kept up the organisation that the military had drummed into him but mainly just so he had a nice environment to live in. On the days where his anxiety had left him feeling barely able to function the place went to seed a little but he always cleared up again when he felt able to .

 

Right now Baze felt very self conscious about the bareness. Chirrut might not be able to see the place but he would no doubt be able to tell that it lacked much in the way of personal touches or home comforts. Baze had never had a guest before. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. He put the shopping bags on the counter as Chirrut stepped in through the door, stick swinging in little arcs in front of him to make sure he could navigate this new space.

 

So far today Chirrut had shown utter confidence in everything he was doing. Baze hoped that this would mean he had to do little for the other man to make himself at home. 


	9. Chapter 9

The moment they stepped through the door Chirrut could feel Baze relax a little. He was glad. He didn’t know much about Baze as a person, as opposed to a customer, but Chirrut liked having him in his shop. He liked hearing him limp less and less noticeably and the cane falling less heavily. He liked knowing that even though all he was doing was filling prescriptions for him that he was still helping him in some way.

 

Chirrut also liked that he’d been able to coax Baze to open up over his, initially brief visits. That he now lingered in the shop longer and longer, mainly just making small talk with Chirrut. He liked their discussions, liked the way Baze’s deep voice soothed over his nerves and sometimes made him shiver. Liked teasing him and suggesting more and more outrageous ways to fill the prescription.

 

He stood in an unfamiliar apartment that he knew was emptier than it should be. Too much space surrounded Chirrut, too much sound echoed off bare walls. He ached to know that the gentle man beneath the gruff voice had been suffering. Chirrut thought of him as a friend, even though they did not really know each other.

 

As he heard the rustling of plastic bags being placed down Chirrut wondered if Baze had anyone in his life. Did he have a partner or any family? Did he have friends? Chirrut hoped he did because for some reason the idea that this man might be all alone in his life sat very badly with him.

 

Chirrut stepped toward the sound of Baze rummaging through the bags. He swung his stick in front of him, navigating around the kitchen counter and laid a hand on Baze’s arm. 

 

“Don’t worry about that just now. I’ll sort out the food and you can get me some plates.” 

 

Baze stilled for a moment before moving away and Chirrut went about sorting out by feel various packets and bags. He heard the clink of crockery being set down next to him and smiled. 

 

“You go and get settled.” He said.

 

“But-”

 

“No buts! Go sit down and rest that leg. I’ll just put things out here and we can leave the plates until we actually want things.” 

 

Baze stood for a moment shifting his weight. He was a little unsure about leaving Chirrut but realised he was insulting the man by assuming he wouldn’t be able to find his way around. If someone had assumed the same of Baze he knew he would have been angry about it. Chirrut seemed confident enough and Baze made the decision to trust that the other man knew his limits.

 

He hobbled over to the sofa, the bag with his medication slung over his arm, and sank down into the soft cushions with a sigh. He forced himself back up to pull the footrest in reach but didn’t put his leg up yet as he didn’t want to block the blind man’s path. 

 

Chirrut pottered about for a while longer putting things out before picking up his stick from where he had leant it against the counter and making his way over to where he had heard baze. As he crossed the room his stick knocked against almost nothing. There was no clutter on the floor. There was a small knock against something wooden as he drew level with Baze’s breathing and he presumed it must be some kind of side table, he moved past it and his stick thudded against leather. Once it swung free of the corner of the sofa he turned. There was a soft fabric sound to his right and he stopped the arc to his left not wanting to hit Baze’s bad leg, a little further along and there was more wood to the right hand side, a coffee table maybe, and then he was past Baze’s breaths again. 

 

After probing with his stick a little to his left and finding the leather sound to be quite close he reached a hand out to feel the edge of the sofa and turned to sit down. He was a little closer to Baze than he’d calculated but it wasn’t something he particularly minded. He appreciated that there wasn’t any mess to worry about tripping over but the sparseness only served to worry him more about what kind of life Baze lead. He had a horrible suspicion that it was a lonely one.  

 

The sofa was almost sinfully comfortable, the cushions on it soft and the leather of the seats themselves was a pleasant texture beneath Chirrut’s palms. He leaned back with a sigh and lifted a hand to rub at his forehead. The headache he’d been nursing was worsening and he hoped it wasn’t a migraine that was building. 

 

Baze shifted his weight again and Chirrut sighed in exasperation. 

 

“Hand me the TV remote and light up again. You’re supposed to be relaxing. This is your home, there’s nothing to worry about here.”

 

There was silence from Baze and Chirrut raised an eyebrow. “I presume you do have a television.” 

 

Baze groaned, there was going to be no arguing with Chirrut at the moment, he could tell. He grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table, turned on the TV and handed the remote to Chirrut. Then he moved the ashtray closer to him and dug one of the packs out of the bag. He lit up as Chirrut flicked through different channels before settling on what looked like a rerun of bones. He turned the volume down and leaned forward feeling for the coffee table before putting the remote back.

 

“Background noise, something familiar but not too um…” Chirrut gestured with one hand as he searched for the word he was looking for. “Disturbing? Nothing too tense or with too many sudden sounds is what I mean. I don’t like silence too much and I’ve heard that it can help with anxiety a little, block out other things.”

 

“Thank you.” Baze said, catching himself just before nodding again. You’d think in the months he’d been frequenting Chirrut’s store he would have stopped doing that. He supposed that it was so ingrained that it was going to be a hard habit to break. 

 

He took a deep pull on the blunt and tried to relax. It was more difficult than he thought. Having the TV on did help. The low drone of it stopping him from picking up on every little sound to over analyse. He let out a plume of smoke and saw Chirrut quirk a smile, he must be able to smell it. Baze’s pulse was still racing but he felt better having someone with him. Arguing with Chirrut a little over the shopping had been mundane enough to break through things at least a little bit.

 

He took another hit and looked at Chirrut a little more closely. He gave off an air of being at peace, leant back against the sofa and turned slightly toward Baze. He had one ankle resting on the opposite knee and his hands clasped in his lap. 

 

After a few more breaths of smoke Baze could feel the drug make his head spin more than he was used to. Despite this the tension was draining from his muscles and the measured breaths calmed his pulse. Chirrut was right. This did help, a lot more than he had let himself realise. 

 

Baze kept feeling his gaze being drawn back toward Chirrut and the crease between his brows. Despite the smile he was still frowning in pain. The headache he had mentioned earlier was still troubling him. He took Chirrut’s hand and slid the blunt between his fingers.

 

“There’s no need for you to be in pain too.” He said. It also felt a little strange for Chirrut to just sit there and listen to him smoke. He watched Chirrut’s smile gentle at the edges.

 

“Thank you. I didn’t want to say anything but it’s getting pretty bad.” He lifted the blunt to his lips and took a hit, sweet smoke flooding his lungs. He held the breath for much longer than Baze had thought possible then exhaled smoothly, smoke curling around him. 

 

Chirrut sighed in relief as he felt the pain ease a little and leant his head back against the sofa. He took another hit and then held out the blunt to Baze, his smile a lot more genuine.


	10. Chapter 10

The heavy smell of smoke permeated through Baze’s apartment. It would probably be a good idea to open the balcony door but Baze was warm and comfortable and he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up to do it.

 

An arm stretched in front of him and he slid the blunt between Chirrut’s fingers. This was the second one they were sharing and it was nearing its end. Chirrut posture had begun to relax somewhere around the time they lit this one. Baze had managed to let go of his anxiety a little toward the end of the first. With every hit he relaxed more. He hadn’t felt this calm in years and while he would be quite content to stop now he had the sneaking suspicion that Chirrut would talk him into lighting a third one when it was finished. 

 

He was considering allowing Chirrut to talk him into things more often. If they went as well as this then he had very little to lose.

 

Baze turned his head to watch as Chirrut took a hit, long and slow, his eyes half-lidded. He swallowed and turned away again.

 

“You know,” Said Chirrut, his voice gone soft. “This is actually a pretty integral part of the whole culture.”

 

Baze blinked. “What culture?”

 

“Hmm? Oh the whole weed thing. There’s a really strong association of sharing. Doing it with people, friends, rather than on your own. Whether it’s the weed itself or food or whatever. There’s an equality to it. At least on the recreational side.” Chirrut grinned wide. “Which as someone who uses medicinally I of course know nothing about.”

 

Baze rolled his eyes. Chirrut was fooling absolutely no one right now. Any suspicions Baze may have had were confirmed when Chirrut had re-appeared at the car door with arms full of junk food. He let Chirrut drone on for a while as they passed the blunt back and forth before stubbing out the last of it.

 

“So that’s basically the whole thing. Relaxation. Companionship. Munchies. That sort of stuff.” 

 

As Baze began to feel the haze truly descending over his mind he decided he definitely understood the last part.

 

“What did you buy anyways?” Said Baze.

 

“Aha!”

 

Baze jumped a little at the shout and turned to see Chirrut pointing at him with an incredibly smug expression. “What?”

 

“You-”

 

“Stop,” Said Baze. He ran a hand over his face. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to hear it.” Chirrut’s voice had sounded even more smug than his face was.

 

“You,” Said Chirrut. 

 

Baze groaned in despair.

 

“Are munchied.”

 

“I haven’t eaten much today, the pain puts me off it and the anxiety makes me feel nauseous.  _ And _ you insisted we needed all that food.”

 

Chirrut laughed, a joyful, bubbling laugh that Baze didn’t think he’d heard from anyone before. “Oh alright, alright. I’m just teasing.”

 

He shoved at Baze’s arm but his aim was a little off and he ended up falling against his shoulder instead. He was felt soft but firm underneath it and Chirrut forced himself back up rather than giving into the urge to snuggle closer.

 

He could feel his thoughts soften and haze from smoking and oh this was bad. He hadn’t thought this through. Baze was so much fun to tease and flirt with in the shop and just so much more lovely when he let himself relax a little. At this rate Chirrut was worried he might just end up doing something ill-advised.


	11. Chapter 11

Chirrut levered himself up from the sofa with only a small measure of difficulty. It was soft and he didn’t want to move, he did however want food. He thought about grabbing his stick to help him find his way to the kitchen area again but why bother when he could just grab Baze instead.

 

He waved his hands in the general direction of the other man until Baze had to grab them to stop him from being hit in the face. Then Chirrut leaned back and pulled.

 

“Up. We need food.” He said.

 

“Why can’t you just bring a bag over.” Said Baze.

 

“Because I had to put stuff on plates earlier and I’m  _ blind _ come on.” Chirrut whined, tugging at Baze’s hands until the large man heaved himself to his feet with a groan.

 

As soon as Baze was up Chirrut pushed him towards the open space at the end of the couch and then latched onto his arm. He half let Baze lead him, half dragged him bodily in the direction od the kitchen. Baze was busy having difficulty processing the fact that Chirrut was  _ definitely _ stronger than he looked. 

 

When Baze finally steered Chirrut around the counter, before he tried to stride straight through it, it became apparent that Chirrut had bought some actual food as well as junk food. Something Baze was eternally grateful for. He was even more grateful for the soda as he hadn’t realised his mouth had become desert dry until that instant.

 

While Baze gulped greedily at the orange soda Chirrut moaned obscenely around a slice of melon he’d pulled off of one of the plates. It was juicy and cool and that combined with the soft texture was heavenly when he was high. Never let it be said that Chirrut didn’t know exactly what he was doing when he bought up what looked like half a grocery store.

He stripped the melon slice down to the rind and the picked up one and waved it toward Baze.

 

“You  _ need _ to eat this.”

 

Baze took one last swallow of soda straight from the bottle before putting it back on the counter and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He plucked the melon from Chirrut’s fingers. “Alright.”

 

“No resistance?” Chirrut said.

 

“You were right about the food.” He sighed. “You’ve been right about everything today, might as well trust you with this.”

 

A grin split Chirrut’s face wide enough that Baze could see his gums and he felt compelled to add “This does  _ not _ mean you get to say ‘I told you so.’”

 

Chirrut deflated slightly but perked up again when he heard Baze groan around his first bite of melon. He rummaged through the bags on the counter trying to find where he’d put the tortilla chips until they were pulled out of his reach. 

 

“I’ll take the bags over if you get the plates.” Baze said, screwing the cap back on the soda and sliding it into one of the plastic bags. Chirrut bounced on the balls of his feet and nodded to himself. He picked up a plate in one hand then looped his other arm through Baze’s before picking up the other. That way he could still be guided back over to the couch, not that he probably couldn’t find it on his own but he didn’t want to drop anything.

 

Once they were settled back down and both had inhaled another few slices of melon, and Chirrut had opened a bag of tortilla chips and almost showered them both in them, Chirrut felt around for the pack of blunts and slid another out of it. He held it up to Baze with a questioning look.

 

Baze weighed how he was feeling already with Chirrut’s unnerving ability to be always right, at least today, before taking the blunt and flicking the lighter to life again. He took a long slow drag, which he was beginning to get the hang of, and then a shorter one before placing it back between Chirrut’s fingers.

 

Chirrut took a hit, let out his breath, smiled and giggled a little before taking another hit. Baze began to feel a smile tugging at his lips almost involuntarily in return. 

 

They pass back and forth, slowly demolishing the snacks. With every lean forward Chirrut took to grab something from the coffee table he seemed to end up closer to Baze on the lean back. He was sure this was something he was supposed to be bothered by but between the smoke and his enjoyment of Chirrut’s company Baze just couldn’t bring himself to care. 

 

Baze stubbed out the last of the blunt. As good as he felt, and he almost felt like he was flying really, he wasn’t comfortable with having anymore.

 

Chirrut took a swig of soda and sat back again, ending up fully cuddled against Baze’s side. The man was genuinely enormous and he found himself very decidedly not minding. Chirrut could tell through the haze in his mind that he definitely shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was. This was bad, but it was so, so good as well. He hummed in contentment and decided against fighting it at least for the moment, then he curled his legs onto the sofa with the rest of him and snuggled into Baze’s side.

 

Baze would have raised an eyebrow at the behaviour but he couldn’t really find himself in it to mind too much. He supposed it would have been a little hypocritical of him as well considering in the past ten minutes he’d found about five different excuses to brush his hand across Chirrut’s short cropped hair. The first time had genuinely been an accident but the sensation was surprising and fascinating and he needed to feel it again.

 

The next time he tried Chirrut grabbed his hand on it’s way back and planted it firmly against his scalp before giggling. Baze was coming to quite like that sound. With this unspoken permission given he distracted himself with the sensation of repeatedly running his fingers through Chirrut’s hair. It was surprisingly soft despite its shortness.

 

About ten minutes after he started and Baze could feel the last of the weed kicking in and sending his mind spiralling. His body felt both heavy and light and there was a strange cool feeling almost all over him. He thought that Chirrut must be feeling the same considering he was nearly purring from the combination of Baze’s fingers and being utterly blissed out.

 

Baze swallowed and bit back a gasp. The increased awareness of his body was rapidly bringing to his attention the fact that whilst most of him was feeling chilled out there was one part of him that was burning hot.

 

Chirrut let out another little happy noise and Baze felt himself twitch in his underwear. Thank any gods that were listening that Chirrut was blind and stoned. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice. Chirrut picked that particular moment to stretch against him, thighs rubbing against Baze’s own and Baze did his best not to go cross eyed.

 

“Mmm Baze?” Chirrut’s voice was a little breathy and he rubbed his cheek against Baze’s shoulder as he spoke. “Can I feel your face? It helps me to get an idea of what people look like.” 

 

He raised his head to blink toward Baze and Baze struggled not to get distracted by the subtle beauty in his unfocused eyes. “Umm sure.”

 

Chirrut grinned and sat up so that he was kneeling next to Baze on the sofa. He stretched his hands out and Baze helped guide them to his cheeks. Chirrut started off by running his hand up to Baze’s forehead. Ostensibly with the intention of working his way down but he kept getting distracted by the different sensations. A scar here, a crease at the corner of his eyes, eventually he reached Baze’s trimmed beard and got thoroughly lost in running his fingers over it repeatedly. 

 

Baze laughed and grabbed Chirrut’s wrists. “Somehow I don’t think you got a very good look at me.” 

 

“Nonsense.” Chirrut grinned. “You’re just as dashingly handsome as I always knew you’d be.”

 

Baze blushed, a fierce heat blazing its way across his cheeks that he was unable to stop. Chirrut slid his hands up, ignoring Baze’s grip on him.

 

“Your face is so warm. Are you blushing?” He asked before swiftly dissolving into giggles. He tugged his hands away to clasp around his waist, falling face first against Baze’s shoulder, powerless to stop the laughter. 

 

Baze grinned and pushed at Chirrut until he was in a more comfortable position for both of them. He’d gotten more high than he thought he would if he was honest with himself but he was glad he just let go. Chirrut had been right, this was exactly what he needed and if meant he got a little closer to the man he had privately considered to be a friend well then that was all for the better.

 

He rested his arm around Chirrut who was still giggling into his side and studiously ignored what was happening lower down his body. It was probably only a side effect of the weed anyway.


	12. Chapter 12

The come down was slow and lazy but by that point so were they. Baze felt at peace for the first time in years, drifting gently through the haze in his own mind. Chirrut was still cuddled against his side but seemed less to be leaning on him because he couldn’t sit upright and more because he was comfortable there.  
   
As the hypersensitivity began to fade so did Baze’s willingness to be so tactile. He was, in fact, a little embarrassed with himself and could feel his cheeks burn from it. He repositioned his arm so it was more on the back of the sofa than Chirrut’s shoulders and tried to disguise the motion by stretching. He let out a groan as he felt his vertebrae crack.  
   
“I don’t know if that sounded satisfying or painful.” Said Chirrut. He sat up a little straighter and stretched his own back and shoulders. Chirrut was feeling relaxed. He wasn’t sure if Baze regretted his closeness but hoped that he didn’t. He had very much enjoyed their afternoon and hoped Baze had as well. He hoped even more that this had helped Baze, he thought that it had.   
   
The snacks Chirrut bought had been thoroughly demolished and they had barely paid attention to the TV at all. The voices had, however, proved fairly soothing as background noise for both of them.  
   
Baze flexed his leg. His pain levels were very low, the muscles were not cramping or spasming and it even felt a little less stiff than normal. Rest was good for it and Baze’s anxiety did not make resting easy. As he sobered he realised just how much he owed Chirrut for today. He turned and placed one large hand of the other man’s shoulder.  
   
“Thank you, Chirrut. This...this helped a lot.”  
   
“You’re feeling better?” Chirrut asked.  
   
“I am calmer than I think I’ve been in years.” Baze said. “In a lot less pain too. Again, thank you.” He poured as much sincerity into the words as he was capable of and watched as Chirrut’s smiled stretched wide across his face and he near glowed with happiness.  
   
“I’m glad this helped you. Glad I could help you.”  
   
They languished on the couch a little longer but Chirrut already knew that his presence was no longer required and while it had been nice to take this time out with Baze he did still have things he needed to do. Closing the shop itself was no hardship but just because it was closed didn’t mean there weren’t things to be worked on for it.   
   
Chirrut sighed and stretched again before levering himself up from his seat at Baze’s side.  
   
“I should get back.”  
   
“Are you sure?” Baze didn’t mind Chirrut’s company, he wouldn’t chase the other man off just because he was calmer.   
   
“As much as I would like to continue ignoring my responsibilities I’m afraid so.” Chirrut’s smile softened the fact that he was leaving and Baze felt a little less guilty over it. At least he wasn’t the reason Chirrut needed to go. He didn’t think the other man would make excuses to leave just to be polite. Chirrut didn’t strike him as that kind of person.  
   
Baze got up and followed after Chirrut as he made his way, cane in hand, to the door. Chirrut snagged his satchel from the kitchen counter on the way past. It had sat there untouched since he had dumped it and the food bags there earlier.  Chirrut dug his phone out of the satchel and asked the automated voice on it to order an uber to his location.   
   
He turned next to the door and offered Baze a smiled even as he readied to leave. He wasn’t willing to admit just how little he wanted to go, not even to himself. He didn’t know that Baze’s mind echoed his thoughts.  
   
“I suppose goodbye is appropriate then?” Said Chirrut.  
   
“I’ll see you at the shop. Maybe next time I’ll actually take you up on some of those recommendations.”  
   
“Oh I don’t know about that, a little license and I might start to get really wild with my suggestions.” Chirrut chuckled, face full of mischief and warmth.Baze blushed again and was eternally grateful that Chirrut couldn’t see it.   
   
Chirrut cleared his throat. His face was serious for once, brow furrowed in a way that reminded Baze of when they were in the back room at Chirrut’s shop and Chirrut was still trying to get him to calm down.  
   
“Baze? If you ever need anything. Someone to talk to. Someone to hang out with on your now, I hope frequent, down days certainly. Well...I’m always there.”  
   
“I’m not sure if you would have considered us such before but I certainly consider friends at the very least after today.”  
   
Baze smiled genuinely. “Thank you, Chirrut. I think I might well take him up on that.”   
   
He double checks that chirrut can definitely get home fine. Chirrut assures him his uber is waiting outside and heads out.   
   
Baze shut the door and leant back against it. He heaved a deep sigh and smiled softly to himself. Today was good, even with the bad start, and Baze thought he might like to spend more time with Chirrut. Maybe a lot more time.  
   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
   
Chirrut sat in the back of his uber listening to the quiet soothing sounds of the car and of fairly empty roads outside of it. His thoughts remained with Baze even as he was driven home. He hoped that this gentle, troubled man would continue to let him into his life, because Chirrut rather worryingly suspected that he had already let him into his heart. He didn’t think that was something he was able to go back on after today.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a oneshot but it ran way too long and I'm enjoying writing it way too much.


End file.
